Month: May 2013

Watson: “If you would have just told me that you kicked Odin in the face and not lied, I would have fussed at you, told you that it was mean and then made you go hug Odin and tell him that you were sorry. But, Odin is a dog and he doesn’t speak English so, he wouldn’t have understood you anyway.”

Insert uncontrollable laughter —-> HERE.

He then proceeds to tell a scared, lying 7 year old…

Watson: “I don’t care what humming you think that you hear from under your bed, either you make the Boogie Man a peanut butter and onion sandwich and he leaves you alone or you don’t and just go to bed and deal the fuck with it.”

This morning, I contemplated keeping both you boys home from school. Not because you were feeling under the weather but, rather because both of you were being total jerks. You see, when I keep a either one of you home from school, unless you are running a high temp, vomiting any and everywhere, forced to stay on the toilet or some injury that requires a trip to the ER, I consider being home from school a time for reflection on WHY you are even here. And, to make sure that you never want to be at home with me again.You see, I have these two men-children that, for some reason, think that it is okay to disobey me, pretend they didn’t hear me or for lack of better reasoning, utter the phrase, “I forgot”. As if forgetting ever got me out of paying a late bill or picking them up from school on the daily.So, you see, for that very reason, I see you being at home as a means of learning. Education of the world, if you will. When at home with me, there are chores to be done. There is no such thing as sleeping all day, playing a video game, building with Legos or partaking in television time. Oh, on the contrary. When at home with me, you will earn that bed you sleep in, those clothes you wear and the luxury of having everything your little heart needs and desires.And, unfortunately, these privileges are earned by the following:I hate cleaning baseboards. Therefore, you will clean them. I hate cleaning toilets. Hence, I will hand you the toilet brush. Call me crazy but, if I have to clean MY room, I believe that you should do the same. Everything in it’s correct place and if not, well, that’s my prerogative and my prerogative is to place it gently in the trash receptacle. There is vacuuming to be done, there are windows to be washed. (Don’t worry, I have a sturdy step stool)There are piles of poop to be scooped and there are weeds to be pulled.I have a car that needs to be cleaned out and truck that requires the same.The front porch has been neglected as of late and being that I purchased you each a broom conducive to YOUR SIZE, I see no reason that you should not use it.I seemed to have forgotten the dusting and the cleaning of the blinds. Not to mention, the vacuuming of the stairs. (Gosh, I hate that)And, as I recall, I did save your old toothbrushes. They seem to do a bang up job of getting tile cleaned. Well, at least I hear they do. I hate that chore so therefore, you are going to do.

So, you see my dearest, darling men-children, please think twice about arguing with me about that belt that I asked you put on. Or, feeding the dogs when it isn’t “your job”. Please, by all means, reconsider complaining to me how it is “not fair” that you have to put away your own clothes and make your beds before school.

One last note, please consider this a courtesy notice of behavior that will earn you a day home from school WITH ME and all that comes along with it.

Last night I took my middle son, Morgan, to his school for a PTA function. Bingo de Mayo. I’m not going to at like it wasn’t awesome to spend time with my kid. I mean, it’s not much longer and I won’t be able to get him to acknowledge my existence. Let alone, for him to actually WANT to hang out with me.

From the time that I picked he and his brother up from school, all he could go on about was that the “first 200 people got a free tao plate”. I mean, really? He knew that we were tacos at home but, nonetheless, he insisted that we be there to ensure we got the free plates. (In case anyone is interested, we were number 61 and 62 in line. GO, MOM!)

Now, I’ve played my share of Bingo. Our Lady of Fatima Catholic Church was THE hall to feed your need. And, I have seen my share of serious Bingo players. (Little old ladies get vicious if they don’t win SOMETHING.) But, I would like to say nothing I have seen before compared to the level of concentration and seriousness that these parents had last night.

#1 It’s a PTA function. There are not going to be jackpots of $1000 or a $100 gift card to Wal Mart. Jackpots consist of school t-shirts, Costco sized containers of Redvines and SMALL gift cards to Extreme Yogurt or Starbucks. *Note to lady with the skin tight LEOPARD tights: These prizes don’t “suck”. Again, and let’s say it together… “It’s a PTA function.” Slow your roll and take it to the casino.

#2 That’s a $3 taco plate. Be happy that you got the choice of carne asada, chicken or pork. The beans WERE runny, the rice WAS NOT “Mexican” (as if you know, Mr. Whitey) and unfortunately for the lady carrying THREE plates with no assistance from her pants dragging the floor, teenage son, the “chunky” guacamole that she ONLY likes was not in attendance. Again.. “That’s a $3 taco plate”.

#3 Wait, did I mention that this is a PTA function? (Just making sure) So, being that you are NOT a card carrying member of the PTA, yes. YES. Fucking, YES! You are going to have to actually PAY for that $1 Binger dauber. And, please… by all means, take your sweet time picking one of the four colors. Come the hell on. REALLY?!

Now that I have blasted those morons…Please let me continue and say what a great time I had hanging out with my kid. We didn’t win any actual Bingo round but, our door prize ticket was called and we won 2 tickets to the movies. I call that a TOTAL win!

Tomorrow, I take my other kid to a birthday party at some pottery painting place. I’m not going to broadcast it but, I am pretty fucking excited about it. And, I would like to say “Thank you” to the mom that was AMAZING enough to say, “NO” to any of the following: Chuck E. Cheese, miniature golf, Shakey’s, Cici’s or any other place that have game rooms that require I pay money for crap prizes that inevitably will not even make it home before being broken and strewn about my car. Mother of the birthday girl, I salute you.